


Rodeo Queen

by gonfalonier



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Restraints, Riding, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonfalonier/pseuds/gonfalonier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selina's ready to get the band back together.  But not before she has a little fun for herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rodeo Queen

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I wrote a couple years ago for the TDKR kink meme.

Chains won't hold him. No cuffs, no plastic, he rips through them all like wet paper. Leather is the only thing that works, and even that creaks unsettlingly when he struggles.

They're keeping Bane in a maximum security cell deep in the bowels of Arkham Asylum, far away from the regular population, down where they keep the real crazies. There's no evidence, of course, that there's anything wrong with him, psychologically, apart from a few stray psychopathic tendencies, and who in Gotham doesn't have those? (There's only so much space in the asylum, after all.) But Bane survived a blast at point-blank range -- a shot that should have killed him merely incapacitated him, thanks in no small part to his layers of body armor -- and Arkham is the only place in town that has sedatives strong enough to keep him knocked out until the authorities can decide what to do with him.

Through the portal window in the door to his cell, Selina Kyle observes Bane curiously. They've got him lashed down in there like King Kong. Very fitting, considering his size and his capacity for destruction. They've let him keep his mask on. That's probably for the best.

Selina tugs at the hem of her nurse uniform. She has no idea why these things have to be so short. At least half the people in this place are here for some weird sex thing -- not that Selina has any right to judge -- and these uniforms look like something out of a cheap porno. She scratches at the top of her head. Her hair's bound up tight under the blonde wig, and it itches something fierce. It's a small sacrifice, though, a necessary discomfort to get what she needs. 

She had her chance to leave Gotham after all the mayhem had subsided. Bruce gave her the Clean Slate and said he could get her out of the city. She could see the appeal, of course, could imagine herself jetting with Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne, eating fresh figs and sipping liqueurs by the banks of some Riviera, or donning a sequined strapless number and playing the high-roller tables in Monte Carlo like a Bond girl.

But a tiger can't change its stripes. And everywhere outside of Gotham might as well be Cleveland. She stood Bruce up at the airport, used the Clean Slate program to make herself untraceable, and slipped back into Gotham's backalleys.

It turned out, though, that even the backalleys had fallen victim to the citywide clean-up project. As Gotham recovered from nearly getting nuked, the remaining police force found they had to stop relying on the Batman and start enforcing the law themselves. They were pretty efficient about it, and apart from a few elusive bad guys who'd probably skipped town altogether, the streets were cleaned up in a matter of weeks. Blackgate and Arkham filled up, the underground emptied out, and Selina found herself working in a jewelry shop with absolutely no one to play with. She started missing the good old days.

Worming her way into Arkham was, surprisingly, cake. She's been forging documents and resumes for years, and passing herself off as a bubbly blonde nurse was so easy she almost felt guilty. She hadn't been "working" in the hospital two days before she was able to flirt her way into the head of security's office, where passcards were just lying around like wildebeests on the open savanna. 

And now here she is, peering in on the man who almost turned the entire city into a historical footnote. A swipe of her passcard, a click of the door, and she's just right there, inside with the beast. And he is a beast. He's strapped to a bed -- more of a cot, really -- that's been bolted to the floor in the middle of the room, and it looks comical, like it's about to collapse underneath him. They have him hooked up to an IV, which, whatever it is, seems to be doing the trick. Bane lolls his head when the door snicks shut, but he makes no attempt to look up.

Selina just takes a moment to relish her position of power. She's dealt with Bane in the past and found him to be menacingly polite and too straightforward. She likes a little verbal finesse, but Bane is all blunt genius, letting his size and strength ensure that all plans are executed on his terms and his alone. "Not this time," she mutters to herself, smirking.

"You'd think," she says as she circles the bed, "this place would have better security. But they've got you locked up in here with no cameras, no door guard, nothing." She bends down at the waist to get her mouth right by Bane's ear. "That's always been this city's problem, right? It's arrogant. It thinks it's got everyone by the balls."

A sound escapes Bane's throat, but it's barely audible, and Selina frowns as she realizes that the voicebox of his mask has been cut. "No more big speeches for you, huh?" She pats his cheek and casts him a mock-sympathetic pout. "We'll fix you up."

Her fingers move down his chest, down the pillar of his neck, down past the collar of the white t-shirt they've dressed him in, to where she can palm his chest. He's a wall, solid muscle barely encased in skin. She remembers watching his fistfight with Bruce, the way he'd effortlessly batted away Bruce's punches before picking him up and breaking him over his knee like a golf club. Of course she'd been horrified at the time, but in hindsight? She'd love to see it again. And again.

Selina gives him a nice thump on the chest with her palm and says, "So. Here we are, two lonely hearts in the big city." With one slick move, she's up on the bed, straddling his chest, her knees on his shoulders. Every time he breathes in, his chest lifts her up. She's nothing to him. "I don't know what you've been up to lately, but I'm sure we've both had some time to think." She sighs. "I don't like the way we ended things, darling. We both said and blasted things out of a rocket launcher that we regret. But a love like ours deserves a second chance, don't you think?" She smiles down at him. He's silent, his eyes slightly glazed. She rolls her eyes and grumbles, "You're no fun like this." Reaching behind her, she unhooks the needle from his arm, then leans over to turn off the valve of the IV. "That's better."

She scoots down his body a little, taking a moment to feel him up again. She likes big guys, a little bit of a challenge, but Bane's built like a totally different animal. Selina lets her fingers wander down his arms, marveling at every well-defined dip and hillock of muscle. She'd noted his size, of course, in their previous transactions, but that was when she was afraid of him. That was when she was beholden to him. Now she's on her own, and she can do whatever the fuck she likes.

"It's a travesty," she says, inching down his body so she can get her hands on more of him, "the way they've put us all away or run us into hiding. We're just trying to get by like everyone else, right? The way I see it, they don't understand us, so they're trying to deprive us of our basic human rights." She finds Bane's nipple through the thin cotton of the t-shirt, just under one of the thick leather straps holding him down, and starts pinching and toying with it. Bane tries to speak -- possibly, or just make a noise of protest -- but it's muffled behind the mask. Selina runs her other hand over his bald head where it's exposed between the straps of the mask and shushes him. She keeps working him, though, moving from his nipple to his ribs, where she lets her fingernails scrape the fabric of the shirt roughly over his skin.

"Now," she continues. "I'm not saying we have to be partners. I know you're still raw about what happened to your girlfriend. But I'm doing you a favor here, and I think I deserve a little respect for that." She has more to say, a whole little script in her head of things she wants to cover, but she's pulled up short as she moves back another inch. Of course she expected she'd get to him -- he's a human being, after all, and there's no way he's been getting his needs seen to in this hellhole -- but _Jesus_ , has she ever gotten to him. She whistles low when she feels the thick tip of his dick bump up against her ass. She moves back further, dragging her panties down the length of his covered shaft. "Holy shit."

Her movements have tugged the waistband of Banes hospital-issue drawstring pants down to reveal the head of his erection, covered by the tight rosette of his foreskin. Selina sucks in a breath and uses her hands to pull the waistband down to the leather strap across his thighs. Her eyes go wide and she gasps softly, genuinely shocked at the size of him. "How do you even walk?" she wonders under her breath.

A tinny groan rises up from behind Bane's mask as Selina takes his shaft in her hand and starts thumbing at his foreskin. Her fascination has shifted to a mouthwatering desire.

"You know," she says, putting on a casual tone as she tries to compose herself, "I'd planned for this. Well. Not _this_ , exactly," she skims the backs of her fingers over his shaft, "but something fun for both of us to remember." She tears her eyes away from the sight of Bane's cock to meet his intense gaze. The drugs are wearing off. Selina couldn't be more thrilled. "I don't think I'll be forgetting you anytime soon."

She shimmies down his body to get a closer look at her prize. With a lick to her palm, she tries to wrap her hand around the shaft, but finds it impossible: There's a solid half-inch of bare cock between her fingertips and palm. She coughs out a nervous laugh and looks up to find that from this position she can't even meet his eyes over his broad chest. She turns her gaze back to his cock. After a few priming squeezes, she starts stroking down, peeling his foreskin back to reveal just the wide, blunt tip of his cockhead. "Oooh," she coos at the sight of the slick flesh. "They've been keeping you nice and clean, huh? Where do I sign up for that shift?" She licks her parted lips and leans in to brush them over the very tip, darting her tongue into the divot of his slit. With her thumb, she rubs his dusky foreskin in circles against the head of his dick -- this isn't her first time around the block, she knows a couple tricks -- and keeps sucking at him, just lightly and just at the tip, trying to get a taste of his pre-come. A guy's jizz she doesn't care so much about, but when it comes to pre-come, she craves the stuff, loves the way it feel on her fingertips, on her lips and tongue, or between her breasts, or even just trailing across her cheek. And Bane doesn't strike her as a one-minute man: As long as Selina's got something to say about it, he's gonna give her just what she wants before she lets him finish.

The heavy veins of his cock throb against her palm, and she can feel the flesh twitching underneath, growing harder. She tries to fit more of her in her mouth, and she manages to get the entire head in before she has to pull off and take a breath. That one little suck pulls a distant groan from Bane, so she kisses the tip again and lifts up just enough to catch his gaze. "Would you believe this is usually my specialty?" she offers with a coy smile. Because it is. Sucking dick is typically where she gets top marks, and she's not one to back down from a challenge. She takes him back in, letting the head fill up her entire mouth. She feels her back teeth graze against the sides as the slippery skin conforms to her upper palate. By the time her lips lock under the flared crown, she's struggling to keep from drooling. When she sucks, it's messy and noisy, sloppy and completely lacking in technique.

Bane doesn't seem to care. He struggles against his sturdy leather bonds, making the metal bed creak underneath them. Selina can barely get another inch into her mouth, so she gives up the charade of suction, parts her lips, and just starts fucking choking herself on it. His pre-come is thick, just like the rest of him, and it's mixing with her saliva and coating her mouth, dripping out onto his skin. She tries to shove her hair out of her face before she remembers it's a wig: With her mouth still struggling to get even halfway down Bane's shaft, she lets out a frustrated little whine and tugs the wig off, tossing it to the side. She keeps her hair tied back for now. She wants to be able to focus on her mission.

Bane sounds like he's about to lose his mind. Grunts and moans, more sharp tugs against his restraints. When she finally breaks for a proper breath, Selina slaps his chest sharply and admonishes, "Simmer down. I'll get you there, you impatient bastard." The word pull him up short, and he glares at her, seething. She thinks she hears him try to say a few words, but they're lost, and she absolutely doesn't care.

She's punished her mouth enough, she decides, and she also gets a twinge of worry about her time constraints. Who knows when some nosy nurse or doctor will come walking by and see the scourge of Gotham getting some unscheduled treatment.

Straddling his hips is a challenge, but Selina manages. The stretch feels good, a slightly painful reminder that she needs to get back in fighting trim if she wants to return to a life of crime and evading the cops. She hikes her skirt up with both hands, revealing the lacy bands of her thigh-highs and a pair of white sheer-silk panties, then reaches up and tugs her hair free of its tie, shaking it loose. She smiles down at Bane, who just glares at her sardonically. If he could make out any intelligible words, Selina imagines they'd be something along the lines of, _Get the fuck on with it._

She dips her fingers into the breast pocket of the nurse's uniform and produces a small scalpel, another spoil of her flirtations with the higher-ups. She expects Bane to jerk at the sight of it, but he just keeps gazing at her, unfazed. She still comments on it anyway, deadpan: "Don't worry, this isn't for you. Blood grosses me out." With a few flicks of the blade, Selina cuts away her own panties, not that they were all that _there_ to begin with. She tosses them away and lets them flutter to the floor, then tucks the scalpel back into her breast pocket for later.

"All right," she says, mostly to herself. But she hesitates a little longer, taking a moment to just stroke her bare pussy back and forth against Bane's dick. His skin is hot to the touch, and when she tugs his shirt up (through the three leather straps holding him down across his middle) and braces both against his chest, she can feel his heart beating strong and fast. She slides one hand down the center of his chest, scratching her nails against the skin between the leather hard enough to bring up an appealing, if broken, trail of wheals. She can hear Bane growl and try to make some kind of pronouncement, but she just laughs and shakes her hair back again. "Not right now, darling. I'm a little busy."

With one hand still steadying herself against his chest, she uses the other to hold Bane's heavy dick upright so she can start trying to lower herself down onto it. This time, her laugh is nervous, wild. She parts her outer and then her inner lips with the tip of his cock, letting his pre-come slick against her flesh and letting her dripping wetness coat his cockhead. She can feel her pussy spasming preemptively, as if she already knows that this is probably more than even she can handle. She takes advantage of her position to use Bane's dick like a toy and nudge the tip against her aching clit.

Normally, by now, a guy's eaten Selina out at least once so she's nice and relaxed and ready, but that doesn't seem like an option with Bane, not if she wants to keep secret whatever fucked up injuries are lurking behind that mask. So instead, she just takes a few deep breaths before she starts to sink down.

"Oh my god," she gasps as she feels her muscles stretch to accommodate just the tip -- just the first inch -- of Bane's dick. She pulls back off and just hovers for a moment before trying again. When she glances down at Bane, he's rolling his eyes impatiently. "Give me a fuckin' break here," she mutters. "You've got to be used to this by now."

Curling her fingers under the strap across his chest, she just goes for it, forcing herself down until she hits the flare at the base of the head. She wants to scream. She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a soft, high whine, but it isn't the same. Panting, she grits out through her teeth, "Next time we do this --" but she's cut off short as he body sinks down deeper and her pussy closes under the head of his cock. She squeaks and drops her head, trying to catch her breath, but all she can manage are short, hitching gasps. Every alarm in her body is going off to tell her _This is a terrible idea_ , but it's not like she can turn back now. She's so tight around him, she can feel every throb of his blood, every fresh trickle of pre-come inside her.

He's finally looking at her. Looking _right_ at her, too. His breathing is picking up, and in her periphery she can see his fingers moving, itching to get on her -- whether to crush her bones or push her down further, it's hard to say.

Selina doesn't know how much more she'll be able to take. The pressure inside her is already almost unbearable, but she can't stop now. She just refuses. She finally frees up her other hand from Bane's steel-hard shaft so she can grab onto the leather and use it to steady herself as she lifts up just enough to feel her tight muscles tug against the crown of his cock, then plunges down another two inches. This time, she can't contain her cry as he fills her up, but she bites her lip to keep any more sound from escaping. Her breath stutters and stalls in her chest as her pussy pulses and clenches around him like she's already gearing up to come.

She topples forward and drops to her forearms, low enough to touch her forehead to his chest. Close to him like this, she can hear the sounds that are getting lost behind his mask, all the grunts and growls and feral, frustrated noises that bang around in his chest and throat, unable to escape his ruined mouth. She moans in unison with him as she pushes her hips back hard enough to take him in almost to the root. Almost.

"End of the line," she says breathlessly. "Now we get to do it all over again."

She plants her hands on his chest and forces herself back up, lifting her hips as she goes so she can drag his dick inside of her. Her head tips back, and she moves her palms down to the thick cords of leather across his stomach for better leverage so she can pull herself up almost completely off his cock. She barely gets herself past the wide flare of the head, then sinks back down, grinning involuntarily as pleasure spikes through her body.

The ride is easier this time around because Bane's dick's already wet, but it's still a struggle to stuff him all in. Selina's having fun now, though, past that initial shock, and she eases her way down, breathing out nearly silent moans. Bane's finally given in, too, it seems: When Selina glances down at him, his eyes are closed and his brow furrowed. He's stopped struggling, but she can feel his hips flexing as he tries to thrust up into her.

"Take me home now," she whispers as she finally sets up a solid rhythm on his dick. All she can manage are shallow thrusts, but that's all it takes to finally get her off -- quite spectacularly, too. She's got him deep when she comes, and her walls clench against him so tight that she can't even move. Her whole body shudders, her mouth open in a silent wail.

As she comes down, every sensation feels heightened. She can feel every droplet of sweat trickle down her neck and pool in the hollow of her clavicle. She can hear her hair as it brushes against her uniform. She blinks back a few tears that must have sprung up during the apex of her climax.

She draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, shivering as the aftershocks glimmer through her body. "Well," she finally says, looking down at Bane, who's watching her expectantly. His eyes are practically boring through her, like she isn't acutely aware that he hasn't gotten his yet. "That was more than I expected." Gingerly, wincing, she draws herself up off of him entirely and dismounts from the bed. She takes a minute to steady herself. The stretch of Bane's cock and the force of her orgasm still have her shaky on her feet.

Bane's dick is nearly purple, an ugly, angry color, as it strains up and flexes against his stomach, sticky and wet. With a breathy little laugh, Selina covers it back up with his hospital pants and then gives it a polite pat with her fingers. "Save that for later," she says, throwing Bane a coy smile. She produces the scalpel again and circles the cot until she's standing right at Bane's head. She beams down at him beatifically and caresses the side of his face with the blunt back-edge of the scalpel. When she survey his body, she can see his muscles rippling under his skin as he shifts restlessly; his expression makes it very clear that he's planning for her to suffer a very violent death. "You'll thank me for this," she promises, dropping down to kiss the front of his mask. Behind it, she can clearly hear him reply, "I will defile your corpse." She just grins. 

Bending at the waist, effectively shutting him up by covering his face with her body, she uses the scalpel to start cutting through the straps. The leather is sturdy, but it gives soon enough under the sharp blade. She gives him a nice starting point, slicing through three of the four straps holding down his right arm and leaving the one around his wrist sawed through halfway. When she's finished, she balances the scalpel on his bare stomach. "You'd better make it fast," she warns playfully as she stands up and smooths her uniform back down. She takes a half-second to survey the room, and then, with a "See you around", she's out the door, leaving her wig and panties behind. She doesn't care who finds them there. She wants Arkham to be reminded that not only are there people out there who can get the better of Gotham's authoritarian system, there are people out there who want to. She saunters down the hallway toward the fire exit to make her leisurely escape. Behind her, she hears the faint sound of wrenching metal.

She climbs the flight of stairs to the ground level and steps out into the parking lot. She shields her eyes from the sun with her hand and starts looking around the lot for something sporty, maybe a convertible. The doctors here drive _really_ nice cars. Starting today, right now, she won't be taking the bus anymore.


End file.
